


To Find Your Name

by howl4mylove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Dragons, F/M, Inspired by Game of Thrones, M/M, Possible Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howl4mylove/pseuds/howl4mylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The race of men have taken everything from the wolves of the North, the dragon people, and all others who they deem inhumane. The wolves of the North have started a rebellion, with King Derek Hale as their leader. Lord Stilinski of the dragon people has offered his only son as the King's mate to form an alliance. </p><p>Stiles must discover who he is, who he was meant to be, and who he used to be. Being at Derek's side seems to bring something out of him, stirring memories and pain he didn't know existed. </p><p>King Derek must keep his new mate safe from threats of the King Argent in the West, but doing this might mean losing himself. </p><p>Stiles is the key to a world that is free of evil. He has great power inside of him, if only he can unlock it. </p><p>Memories are a powerful thing... and sometimes it's the things we can't remember that truly define who we are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Gift

**Author's Note:**

> The titles comes from the song Perth by Bon Iver. 
> 
> I'm really liking this story so far. It is based off of Game of Thrones, but does not follow the plot to a T, so don't worry. 
> 
> Please, leave comments and tell me what you think or what you want to happen! I love to hear from my readers and I tend to write chapters quickly! If you comment and talk it about it, it gets me going so I can write even faster!
> 
> I live to please, so please comment!

"Father…" Stiles' voice was soft as he looked at his naked reflection in the glass before him. His hand maiden gently ran her slim hand over his pale, spotted shoulder. "I do not wish to marry the King of the North." 

Stiles was a child of the summer, he was a boy still. He needed to live where the sun kissed his skin each morning and the halls echoed with laugher of small children. Not far away from his home, far away in the mountains of the North where the wolf people lay. He belonged here by his father's side, Lord Stilinski of Aran Stone, where the last few remaining dragons protected their hollowed home. 

Lord Stilinski looked down at his son, Przemko Stilinski, fondly known as Stiles. "You know it doesn't work like that. King Hale is a good match, allying with him is a good thing. It is a promise that our lands will be safe, that the dragons have guardians. The race of man is savage. They kill our kin." Stiles' people are known as Zaklinacze. They have dragon blood in their veins, which gives them their connection to the dragons, it lets them befriend them, speak to them, ride them. However, many years ago, all, but two of the dragons were killed by men and the Kingdom of Aran Stone was enslaved by men, along with the wolves of the North. However, there is an uprising afoot. King Hale has driven men from his lands and his wolves have driven them from Stiles' kingdom as well. 

Lord Stilinski's people are free, but there are arrangements that need to be made. He wishes to keep his lands free and in order to do that he must forge an alliance through marriage. King Derek had heard of the boy named Stiles, he had heard of his beauty, his wit, and accepted the offer a moon ago. Today marks the day of their mating. 

Mating… a word unfamiliar to Stiles' people. They do not mate, but they are bound to each other's souls, blessed by their ancient tree, Eroyia. Mating is not what he does. It is savage, just as the wolf people, _werwolves._ Naturally, Zaklinacze and werewolves are at odds with each other. The wolves of the North are brutal, claimed by their instincts. The people of dragons are wise, reserved and patient. Stiles isn't ready to leave his home… not yet. 

When King Argent of Shadow Mount took over all the seven kingdoms of Targium, he murdered almost all of the Zaklinacz people, but Lord Stilinski hid his son, disguised themselves as servants of the late Lord Stilinski-- Lord Stilinski's older brother. However, Lord Stilinski's wife was murdered by the race of men. Now, Stiles is the last of the royal bloodline, he is the last that carries the dragon blood. He is destined to be a king and that's what he will be if he goes to King Derek's side… only he wishes there was another way. 

"I have not even met him!" Stiles complained, swatting away the silk garments that his maiden tried to slide over his shoulders. 

"You do not need to meet him, Stiles. He will be your husband by--"

" _Mate_." Stiles corrected, "He will be my mate, he will have no bond to me that I will recognize. Does he even speak the common tongue? Do werewolves even _speak?!_ "

Lord Stilinski sighed, "King Derek is very well versed in the common tongue, but his people… they could use some teachings. Scott said," That is Stiles best friend, a slave from the North that was sold to his kingdom when he was a boy, "That the people of the North are eagerly awaiting your arrival, a new mated pair, especially one of this importance is cause for great celebrations in the North. King Derek is very honorable and strong, even with the…" His father did not finish. 

Stiles looked up at him, furrowing his brows, "Even with the what?" He nearly demanded. Stiles had heard word that King Derek was handsome, but whenever he brought the subject up to the gossiping women in the streets they said nothing more than 'I used to hear he was very appealing to the eye, I have not heard much recently of his beauty.'

"Now, Stiles…" The young Lord looked at him intently, "The King has been through great battles, he is honorable, but… in his most recent endeavors, he has suffered great injuries. The race of men has developed a weapon that scars the wolves, it is laced with wolfsbane. Derek…"

"He's some sort of hideous monster?! How am I to look upon his face?!" It kept getting worse and worse for him. 

"It's not that bad, m'lord," His hand maiden, Paige spoke up, "I heard that it is only part of his face that is scarred. The girls in town said it makes him look scary, but not unpleasant to the eye." She tried to cox him back into his garments again and this time he let the light silk encase his skin, then he pulled on his own grey breeches. The green silk shirt fit to his skin nicely, even complimented the honey in his eyes. 

"See, Stiles, now put a smile on your face. I need you to please the King. I think you'll find you know him more than you think." Stiles didn't know what that meant, nor did he wish to know. 

With that, Lord Stilinski left. Paige left soon after, leaving Stiles to his thoughts. He sat by his balcony window and looked up at the clear sky, thinking it was too beautiful for a day that marked such sadness in him. He could see Urwin and Rabistan, the last two remaining dragons flying above in the clouds. One scales of an emerald green and the other a royal blue. Both males, so they would be the last dragons and when they pass… the dragons will go with them. And eventually the race of Zaklinacze would die with the dragons. Dragons need Zaklinacze to survive, just as the Zaklinacze need dragons. They coexist in harmony, protect each other, but without one… soon the other will perish as well. 

"Mother…" He closed his eyes, silently. "I need you…" His eyes began to brim with tears, "I don't know what to do. I do not want to marr-- mate King Derek. I know it's an honor to be chosen, but I'm not fit for it. I cannot lead a country, let alone a rebellion to overthrow King Argent. The race of men… they frighten me. Their hatred…" He shook his head, "Can I… can I just run away?" 

Stiles cried himself to sleep like that, thinking of running, fleeing in fate.

As he slept, he dreamt…

 

_"Stiles… Stiles…?" Came a voice that belonged to an angel. It was soft like the grass that grows under the spring sun on the far side of the meadows. He could see a flash of dark, long flowing hair sprinkled with flowers. She wore a white, light dress and bore no shoes. "Where are you…?" She asked, but it was almost a song that escaped her lips._

_There was the light sound of laughter as the woman found who she was chasing. "Mommy!" Came the small voice, "You found me!"_

_"Of course I did! You can never hide from your mother!" She grabbed her small child in her arms and lifted him up in the air, spinning him around in the air. Stiles was only four back then, all cheeks and bright eyes. "Someone very special is here to see you…"_

_The little boy's eyes lit up and screamed a name, but the name seemed to screech out, making it impossible to understand what it was. "Where is he?!" The toddler demanded, wiggling to free himself from his mother's grasp._

_The toddler was running-- or tripping-- towards a boy, who had to be no older than eleven. He was strongly built, even for his age. His face though… his face was blurred out, as if he couldn't remember the features of an old friend so they became faceless. "I see you've missed me." The boy spoke, but his voice was shaky, as if the actual sound of it was shifting, made believe. As if it's been tempered with, falsified._

_"I always miss you, -----" The name was screeched out once more. Making Stiles cringe in his dream as he looked on at the scenes before him. "Why were you gone for so long?"_

_The older boy shrugged, lifting Stiles up in his arms, "Dad had me following him around like a puppy. I went on a hunting trip with him, helped with some boring stuff in the kingdom, and even got to go with him to find… dragons!" With that, the boy tickled little Stiles' stomach._

_"Did you find any?!" Stiles asked through a fit of laughter._

_"Just one… a little dragon egg. She was lost in the woods, no mommy or daddy… She needs someone to look after her. We looked around the whole forest to see if there were any other dragons that wandered into our forests, but she was all alone."_

_Stiles had a heart breakingly sad expression on his face, "What'd you do with it?"_

_The older boy set Stiles back down, he pulled out the large dragon egg from his bag, carefully carrying it in both his hands, "I thought I'd bring her to a true Zaklinacz… where she'd be safe. Will you take care of her… for me?"_

_Stiles looked up at him with big, excited eyes, then back at his mother who just nodded with a wide, happy smile on her face. "When will she hatch?"_

_The older boy gently placed the egg in Stiles' arms where he had to practically hug it in order to hold it. His honey eyes just stared down at it with amazement. "It takes up to ten years for a dragon egg to hatch, but it will only hatch with it's mother or the right Zaklinacz for it's owner… for it's rider. You have to keep the egg safe, Stiles. You've got to take care of it, keep it warm and make sure nothing happens to her… can you do that, for me?"_

_Stiles nodded slowly, looking up to meet the older boy's eyes. "I promise, ------"_

 

This time the screeching of the older boy's name woke Stiles up from his sleep. He was panting from the odd dream, and his ears still rang, raging about the unpleasant sound of the boy's name that he couldn't make out. 

As he looked out his window, he could see them… he could see the heard of men on horses and giant wolves along side of them coming towards their castle gates. 

And Stiles knew… he knew the largest, black wolf with red eyes was his intended.

He knew as he watched him move closer that with him came his fate. 

King Derek Hale was coming towards him, full speed. 

And by the end of the full moon, Stiles would belong to the wolf, body, mind, but not soul. That was his, and he would not give that to this stranger… 

 

"Welcome, King." Lord Stilinski greeted as the large wolf passed through the front gates. His fangs could be seen from his muzzle and even in his pure form, you could see the scars on the left side of his face. It looked as if a blade clean sliced down the side of his face from his temple, curving down over his eye, across his cheek and ended at his jaw. There were smaller scars around it, but none as prominent as that. Slowly, he shifting, becoming that of a tall, broad and muscled man. One of her servants swung from his horse, draping a black furred robe over his shoulders that looked like that of bear skin. 

He looked large and frightening like this. Stiles was sure he preferred the wolf to this man right now. As a Zalkinacz, he had a connection to animals, but this human in front of him, no claws or teeth was a million times more frightening. He wished he had run. He wished he could still run, but he knew that this man-- wolf-- would hunt him down like a lion and a gazelle. King Derek did not speak a word, but his eyes turned and found Stiles behind his father. Stiles' head was high, but he felt weak, as if he body might give out at any minute. 

Stiles knew it was his duty to speak, just say a damn word! He couldn't find words though. All he saw was this beast of a man before him draped in the skin of a bear who adored scars of hate on his face. His lips parted to speak, but he was left gaping like a fish. The people of his kingdom around him stared at the werewolf before them, all frightened, he presumed. He had to be brave for his people. He couldn't have them thinking that he was afraid of this man that was supposed to free them of the tyranny that was King Chris Argent. 

Stiles took a step forwards, in front of his father. He heard a woman around him suck in breath, as if she feared for her young Lord's life. He bowed, but his bow was met with roars of laugher from Derek's brute of men. It made Stiles' cheeks turn a dark shade of red. Derek turned his head towards his men, letting out a warning growl and they all cowered to their king. When he turned back to look at Stiles, there still was no kindness in those lifeless green eyes. "Do not bow." His voice was rough, laced with the accent of the North. The words did not seem common on his tongue, but they were words he could understand, at least. 

Stiles straightened his shirt nervously, "I… I did not know, my King…" 

Derek seemed indifferent to his words. 

Behind Derek, Stiles saw a familiar face, Scott. He was a werewolf, but he had been raised in Aran Stone since he was boy, taken from his homeland and sold into slavery at Aran Stone. He was the only werewolf Stiles had known, and even if he is good at heart, there are clear differences between them. The familiar werewolf walked over towards Stiles. The boy was expecting a hug, but Scott wouldn't dare approach him, he merely nodded to him with a small smile. 

Stiles' belonged to the King of the North… to the Alpha of the strongest werewolf pack there was. The Hale Pack. Touching Stiles-- especially before Derek has mated him-- was a direct threat to the king, it was basically threatening to take the King's mate from him. And every werewolf knows that an alpha's mate is sacred to a pack, they are the glue. An alpha protects, but an alpha mate is what keeps that alpha alive. It is an alpha's life line. They are vital to the survival of a pack and without them, the fundamental crumbles. 

"Alpha King Derek has brought you something-- a gift for your mating." Scott said, too formally. Stiles only hoped it wouldn't be this way forever. 

Derek just watched Stiles' face as two strong werewolves brought forth a box, placing it in front of him, gently opening the box. What lay inside of it was more beautiful than any metal or gem Stiles had ever seen. What lay inside was something he could take with him, something that was pure and was _home_. To be given this… It was… magical. 

Slowly, as if if he moved too fast the present might disappear before him, he reached down to pick up the black orb with dark red and gold sprinkled into the shell. It was hard, heavy, and _real._ "It's a dragon's egg, m'lord." Scott said, "It has never woken for years, the King wished to give it to you, said that you would keep it safe." Stiles looked up at the beast before him and thought that maybe… just maybe he wasn't a beast after all, but a man trapped. 

Derek turned then, without thinking, Stiles reached out to touch his forearm. The King froze. "Scott," Stiles looked at him, "How do I tell him thank you?" 

"There is no word for it in Vulgyrian." Scott said sadly, as if his voice was displaying the apology he could not say. 

Stiles walked around to the front of the King to look upon his face, his eyes searched the man that he would be bound to, "Thank you." He spoke, as if wishing his eyes would display his gratitude. Derek looked in his eyes for a long moment then turned, pulling his arm away from Stiles' fingers and walked back towards his men. 

"We leave at the moon's peak." He said, then spoke again in a tongue that was foreign to Stiles… just as was everything else about this man. 


	2. Forever Promse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles leaves behind his home, but is the North as foriegn as he thinks? The journey is a long one from Aran Stone to the North, but along the way Stiles is again haunted by an explainable dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a short chapter, I'll try and post again this weekend with something more significant. 
> 
> I wanted to give you all something to read until this weekend though...
> 
> Don't hate me..?

So Stiles prepared. It wasn't as if he wasn't prepared to leave his home, he had been preparing for it since his father first told him of the arrangement. He was the virgin Lord to wed one of the most brutal and savage of wolves. Just looking at King Derek proved those words he had heard whispered around the castle. The only thing that made Stiles feel even remotely okay was his gift… a dragons egg. 

It was probably dead by now, turned to stone like all the other dragon eggs. Without a mother to care an nurture it before it hatched there is no way that the egg could survive. Not in a world like this. And yet… at the same time, Stiles is glad the baby dragon cannot be born. He's glad the life that was once inside of this egg is not alive, because there is no guarantee that it would live. With men hunting down dragons and wolves alike, it is not a safe world. 

The race of men do not understand dragons, so they kill them. 

They do not understand werewolves… so they kill them. 

Thinking back to Derek's face and his wolf form, Stiles does not understand wolves either, but he doesn't think he could ever hunt one down. They are beautiful, in a magical and frightening way. They are like the moon, they scare us and bring about nightmares and yet we cannot help but to look to them. They draw us in as the moon does. When we lay our heads down at night we look to the moon because the moon is wise. 

It is said that the race of werewolves are brutes, unintelligent, and yet now that Stiles thinks upon it, maybe they are mistaken. Maybe werewolves know something that the rest of us do not. They worship the moon and the stars. Maybe the moon holds a power unbeknownst to us. 

Stiles looked up at the moon then and he could feel something in it. He could see the shadows of it. The full moon would be tomorrow and that would mark the perfect positioning for a mating of this magnitude. Uniting the dragons and the wolves is something worth recognizing. It's uniting two houses that together could be an extremely lethal force. 

To Stiles, though it was a death sentence. He was being thrown into a completely different culture and striped of all he knows… except this egg. This egg will bind to him to his home. 

He thought of this as he cradled the egg against his chest, as if he were afraid that it would disappear if he did not hold it tight enough. He needed to squeeze it, to know it was real. Even if he wished this whole mating was a dream, the egg is the only thing that he wants to be real. 

"Stiles…" Came Scott's voice from his chamber door. The young Lord looked up from the egg that rested in his arms. "Are you ready?"

Stiles nodded. The hand maidens and knights had already gotten all of Stiles' belonging and packed them with King Derek's company. He had everything he'd need and yet somehow not enough, it would never be enough unless he could take Aran Stone on his back. He would climb the highest mountain if only to bring his home with him. 

But… he would have to take this small bit of Aran Stone with him. A last reminder. 

A dragon all his own, or at least a life that could have been. A life that could have soared above the summer skies of Aran Stone, the skies that all dragons belonged to, not the dungeons of the West where King Argent held their bones, a constant memory of the lands and beauty they had slain. 

The very thought of it quakes Stiles to the bone with fury. 

He couldn't think of such sorrow… not when he was supposed to be so happy. He was supposed to be a blushing groom, ready to be swept off his feet by the finest suitor, not a savage beast who walks in the shadows of life, masked by a scar of battle and death. Except, this is his life now, it is his fate and his burden that he must carry. He cannot carry Aran Stone, and yet he was punished with such a weight as this that there is no hope, there is no light… except that of this… this shell of all what should be. 

Leaving his father was something he would never be prepared for, but at the age of ten and seven, he should be away from home, he should be fighting, ruling and that's just what he is setting out to. If the rebellion succeeds and King Derek defeats the men of the West, the wolves of the North will rule all of the seven kingdoms… and Stiles will be at his side. Bearing his children… 

Stiles had told his father he did not wish to make a scene, he did not want to show King Derek weakness when all the wolves did was fight to show strength. They are set up according to strength. Derek is a mountain of strength. He is an Alpha, but not just an Alpha… He is an Alpha King. After the werewolves took down the men that enslaved their people in the North, the werewolves had agreed to Derek being their king, their leader in this fight for justice and freedom. He was the one who stormed the shinning kingdom of Aran Stone and freed Stiles and his people from the King's hand, so now Lord Stilinski can rule his people how he wishes, without the tyrannous eye of King Chris always over him. 

And for that, Stiles is grateful to Derek. 

That is how he is going through with this. For his people… for his people. And for the slightest hope he has that dragons will rule the skies as they had done so long ago… In a time where dragons were magical, not threats that should be destroyed. 

And now… looking at King Derek as he stands before him, waiting for his future mate to join his men and return to the cold and dead lands of the North, Stiles can see it. He can see it in those lifeless, haunting eyes that there is hope. However small, and however hidden, there is a hope for this world in those eyes. 

Stiles was but two steps away from Derek when he turned, looking back towards his father, wishing he could be there for his mating, but Lord Stilinski was where he needed to be, with his people. And Stiles would soon be among strangers, wolves, and savages….

His parting words to his father were the faint whisper of, "I'll return… someday." He didn't know when that someday would be-- if it ever came-- but this was not goodbye. It couldn't be. 

And in the blink of an eye, Aran Stone was but a memory…

 

Stiles didn't have to worry about the coldness outside, he was able to ride in a warm carriage littered with furs and wool blankets. He had time to think, to constantly go over the life that waited him. 

The wolves rode fast, faster than any horse he had ever seen. His carriage was pulled by two large, identical werewolves. Their pelts the color of smokey brown with dashes of white around their muzzles. They were strongly muscled, but it was nothing compared to the wolf that led them… the black, majestic, yet frightening werewolf that's muscled rippled under his coat, led them, but as he ran he kept turning his head as if to make sure that the carriage was still following. 

Stiles could see through the glass at the front of the carriage. He could see the beauty of Aran Stone slowly fading away into a color much darker, grayer. He felt the cold seeping in as they traveled through the night and on into the next morning. He felt it the following night after that. He felt it grow even colder, even when he swore that there was no possible way for it to be any colder… and he was mistaken each and every time as it kept getting colder until eventually he couldn't tell how much colder it grew. All he knew was that in order to even bare it he had to cover himself in all the blankets he could find, hugging the egg close to his chest. 

He slept each night and rose each morning, but not to the face of Derek. It was always Scott who brought him food and drink. Derek would watch him as he ate. He always sat far away with his men and just watched. He looked at Stiles as if he were a piece of meat that he couldn't possibly wait until he was able to sink his teeth into. It made Stiles sick with worry… worry for what awaited him when they finally reached the North. 

At least twenty nights had passed when Derek finally did greet him. 

"I do not like how you look at him." His voice was gruff, but conveyed no feelings. 

Stiles looked up from his food, nearly jumping off his seat of furs, the dragon egg nesting beside him. It took a moment for him to process what the Wolf King was saying, but then he realized… Scott. "No, your highness, it's not like that-- I can assure you." 

Derek looked at him a long moment, those wild eyes just boring into him, "You…" His accent was thick, making the language seem so foreign on his tongue. "You are mine." It seemed so primal to be worded in such a way, but he supposed that he was right… 

"Yes, of course." He felt so pathetic to admit it, but Stiles knew his place. He was meant to please the King… he was meant to be his mate-- whatever that meant. "I am yours, King." 

That was all Derek spoke to him. 

That night as Stiles slept, he dreamt once more…

 

_"There are few things you can actually do without making a fool out of yourself." Came a voice that seemed almost too sooth and silky, but somehow Stiles felt he would listen to every word the man spoke. The man was not much older than Stiles is himself, maybe the age of twenty four. He was tall and sleek with brilliant blue eyes._

_The male he was speaking to had to be no more than fourteen, except the sun seemed to block out his face. His voice though… it was etched in the accent of the North, Stiles realized. As was the older man's voice. "Shut up, you bastard!" He growled out, clearly having some force behind his words._

_"-------!" The name tore through Stiles' dream like a banshee's scream, making his vision seemingly shake. "What have I told you about such vulgar language?" Came a voice like the sea, it was calm, yet held such power than Stiles felt as if he had to bow at the very noise of it._

_The younger boy looked over to the woman, dressed in an elegant thick white gown with a brown fur cape over her shoulder's that encircled her partially. "Yes, mother…" He said, lowering his head slightly, a whimper coming from his lips that Stiles could not make out in his dream still._

_"We have guests, child." Came the beautiful woman with long, dark hair and a completion of russet._

_From behind the woman, Stiles walked out. He was only seven, by the looks of it. His hair was what seemed to be an attempt at tamed, but his locks preferred to have their way. He was dressed in browns and reds, something that reflected his fare skin nicely. Those large honey eyes looked up at the faceless boy and widened, "-------!" The name rattled Stiles' chamber once more, and Stiles could physically feel himself flinch as he slept. Stiles ran to the male, grasping onto one of his legs, the older boy ran his hand through Stiles' hair and something about the gesture made every muscle in the small boy's body relax. He just clung to Faceless like that for a long moment._

_Until Faceless knelt before Stiles, removing his arms. "Has she hatched yet?"_

_Stiles' shook his head enthusiastically, "Not yet, but mommy said that she should be hatching anytime now! She can feel it!" Something told Stiles that Faceless was smiling at his younger self… if only he could make out the features, force his mind to remember a face he had no recollection of. "-------, when I'm big like you, I want to be able to ride her all around! And I'll come visit you in the North all the time! Can I do that?"_

_Faceless nodded, messing up his hair, "Of course you can, always. And one day…" Faceless placed his hand on Stiles' cheek, "One day you can stay with me in the North… if you want to."_

_Stiles jumped at the sound of that, "Really?!" Faceless nodded, "Can I bring my dragon?"_

_"I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_"And she'd be safe?"_

_Faceless pressed their forehead's together, "I'll never let anything happen to her, I promise."_

_"Forever promise?"_

_"Forever promise."_

 

Stiles woke as he saw the bright light shining in through his window and for a moment he though he was back at Aran Stone and this whole trip had been nothing but a dream… except he knew it wasn't when he saw the stony keep of the North coming to view as the dim sunlight shone down on the white snow covered ground that reflected up through his window. 

A pit formed in his stomach and he realized… this was it. 

Tonight he was be mated to Alpha King Derek Hale, the Wolf King of Beasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I disappointed!


	3. Stubborn Little Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight marks the full moon, and the night of Stiles' mating to the Wolf King. 
> 
> Through the savagery that is the kingdom of werewolves, there is a sliver of hope for the world, a sliver of hope for Stiles. Hope comes in all shapes and sizes... Sometimes it is as simple as a flower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any mistakes, I just wanted to get this published for you all as soon as possible. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, and the language that the wolves speak is Slovak, so if you want to know what they are saying ever, just google translate it.
> 
> THERE IS NON CON/RAPE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER.

"Keep in mind, this," She turned on her heels to look back at Stiles as he followed after her, trying to keep up with her long, graceful strides. The woman was Derek's younger sister, Princess Cora Hale. So far she seemed assertive, cold and like all the Hales, powerful. "The King does not take well to new comers and even as his mate, you are that-- a new comer. You threaten the fabric of what he has established here. He has men who will rally behind him, but a mere human--" 

Stiles had to cut her off there, "Zaklinacz, I am not of the race of men." 

"You are a subspecies of man."

"As are you." Stiles pointed out promptly. 

Princess Cora gave him a condescending smile, "Our lineage is derive from a completely different elder that is not of men. Yours is of the men bloodline, it branches off from the original man, where ours was born of wolves. Have you not heard the old tales of werewolves?" She didn't seemed surprised and Stiles could tell she only asked so that she might have the chance to make him look daft, as if he was unworthy of such a marriage. 

He shook his head.

"As I thought," Her accent was that of the North, but her usage of the common tongue was far vaster than that of Derek's-- he could tell. He meant to ask her, but she did not seem the type to be bothered with questions. "Before even the race of men existed, there was a wolf, her name was Sefera. She had sworn herself to the moon and by it she had given her life. She had promised the moon that she would fight her to the death and because of that, the moon goddess gave her eternal life. So when the race of men came about, the savages wanted to hunt down the wolves and Sefera protected them. She did not run when they chased with their swords and arrows, she ran towards them-- she ran to fight. When she was slain, the moon goddess breathed life back into her, but the moon goddess granted Sefera with the disguise of that of man, so that she could go unnoticed through the world. The moon goddess graced all of Sefera's line with such power, so that they could be safe. That's how we came into existence. Through Sefera." 

Stiles looked at her a long moment, the story was beautiful and the race of Zaklinacze had it's own story, but he was sure that even if he explained his own story, it would not change anything for Cora. She clearly looked down on him, as did most of the wolves in the North. 

It suddenly made Stiles feel even more uneasy about the mating. 

His face must have cried for help because suddenly, it was upon him. "Cora, leave the Prince alone." Prince? Stiles had never been called a prince before, lord, yes, but prince? No… he would need to get used to such a title. A slim hand rested on his shoulder. "Greetings, Prince." He saw in her eyes… he could see the same eyes that he was cursed to look at for the rest of his life… they were the eyes of Derek. "I'm Laura, the King's older sister." 

Stiles nodded to her, "It is an honor to meet you."

"Ah, that is where you are mistaken. It is an honor to meet you." She carried the same thick accent of the North, but as Cora she was versed in the common tongue. "You are a sign of hope in our country, a hope the someday all races will be able to live and coexist together." 

He hadn't looked at it that way before, he had looked at it as us and them, instead of _we_ because really there was only one enemy and that enemy brought all other races together. "I don't know about that." 

Laura shrugged, and yet something so simple flowed so smoothly through her bones that it sent a chill through Stiles' body. "You're more powerful than you think, Stiles."

Stiles had no comment on that, instead his eyes drifted towards Princess Cora fading away down the corridor. "What about Cora? She already hates me just because of who I am, there is no telling what the rest of the werewolves think of me." 

"Don't mind Cora, she will come around, I can promise you that. She has a heart, it's only hidden beneath… well, she's just a bitter, but she will like you." Laura sighed, "As for the others, they will follow Derek's lead. They're waiting to see how Derek treats you, to see if you are a worthy mate. If you are… they'll rally behind you and if not… no doubt a beta will step up to challenge Derek as Alpha King." 

Stiles didn't like the thought of that, "What do I have to do to be a worthy mate?"

"Be yourself, Stiles. You have leadership and power in your blood, let that guide your actions." She smirked at him, but Stiles was not feeling nearly as confident in himself. "Now, come… we must prepare you for tonight's festivities." 

Stiles tentatively followed after Laura.

 

Laura had told him in _detail_ how tonight would go. There would be a ceremony under the full moon, the elder priest of the moon goddess would bless them and they would drink the blood of an innocent-- something Stiles wasn't looking forward to, even though Laura assured him it was only baby lamb blood-- and Derek would bite him, claiming him as his mate. He was told the bite would hurt and that his body would have to accept Derek just as Derek's would have to accept Stiles. If it did not, the blood that flowed from the bite would run black and Stiles' blood would be poisoned and he'd die soon after. If it did accept Derek then the blood would run crimson and the mating would begin. He was informed upon the countless amounts of gifts that would be given to them, only animals to eat and herbs to bless their chamber that night for good fertility. He was briefed on the extent of the feast and how many werewolves would be there, he was told to speak the least amount as possible. Laura had drilled into his head the words he must say during the mating ceremony. He had heard them so many times that he thought he might be going mad with the amount of times he's had to speak such a foreign language. 

He was ready-- well, as ready as you can be for something of this magnitude. Stiles told himself he was ready and yet as Laura and another beta, who did not speak the common tongue, got Stiles ready for the ceremony, putting him in grays and reds-- the colors of the North. He thought he looked like a fool with the crimson silk top, a grey, black, and silver colored pelt cape over his shoulders, and the black trousers on his legs. The gray boots he didn't mind as much, though. 

"You look ravishing, Prince." Cora spoke from the doorway as Laura adjusted the pin of a wolf that tied the cape around his shoulders. Laura ignored her younger sister, but Stiles couldn't help but let the she wolf get under his skin. "I wonder how dragon blood tastes." She licked her lips at the thought.

"That's enough Cora." Laura shot her a warning glare. "You'll do well to remember your place, after tonight Stiles ranks over all of us." 

The younger girl rolled her eyes, "Do not remind me. I did not wish to be ruled by such a _kretén_." She spoke in the tongue of the North, whatever the word was, it stung Stiles because he knew it was cruel. "Wolves are not ruled by humans." 

Stiles couldn't argue with her there. How was he to rule these people? They are not even people, they are werewolves, savages and fighters. Zaklinacze are wise beings, they are the brains, not the brawns. Stiles kept his mouth shut, as did the beta, Erica, who brushed his chocolate locks to the side in an attempt to make him look presentable. 

"Vaše vlasy sú ako džungľa." Erica whispered under her breath as she brushed his hair, making him wince ever so slightly at the tug. Laura giggled at the comment, where Stiles was lost.

"What?" He asked, innocently. 

Laura just shook her head, straightening Stiles' shirt out for him. "No need to bother yourself with simple words of betas." She planted a kiss on his forehead then, "No matter what happens tonight, Stiles… Just know that… that Derek is cruel. He has been hardened by time, by the loss of our parents and the brutality of the Argents. What he does and how he treats you… it was not how it was supposed to be. Your mother never wanted it this way." 

Stiles' eyes widened at the mention of his mother, "What do you mean?" His mother had been killed when the Argents took over Aran Stone and Stiles was only a babe of seven, that was ten years ago. 

Laura was stepping away, calling the young beta to her side. "Do not trouble yourself with thoughts of the past, Stiles." 

He was more lost than ever. 

Lost and alone. 

He felt it as Laura, Erica, and Cora all left him to his temporary chambers. He was left with his thoughts… and his dragon egg. 

He was left alone with the moon. He saw it's beautiful spherical shape above him, making it's way to the highest point in the sky… and when he hit that point… he would have his fate decided for him. 

In the presence of the moon goddess. 

By all the stars in the blanket of the night, Stiles would be changed forever. 

 

There was one thing Laura seemed to forget to mention. 

One tiny, little detail….

She said nothing about a chase. 

Because here he is, running through the forest, tripping an stumbling blindly through the night. He could hear the fast approaching alpha behind him, he could sense him. He never felt so much like a deer before, being chased by a wolf. He was the prey and the Wolf King, the predator. There was something so animalistic and primal of chasing your intended. 

Laura told him of the ceremony, he had recited the words before Sefera and the moon goddess. _Vo svetle mesiaca, dám svoje telo a dušu, aby jeden a iba jeden. Večne viazaný hviezd na môj kamarát. Môj kamarát Vzdávam sa._ Meaning, by the light of the moon, I give my body and soul to one and one only. Eternally bound by the stars to my mate. By my mate I surrender. 

Stiles had thought that after that, he would have his fate decided then, that Derek would give him the claiming bite, but then Derek spoke in return to his words and those words… the words still rang in his head as he did not know what they meant, but something about the way Derek's voice coated them on his tongue… it _did_ something to Stiles' body. He could feel something coursing through his veins, even now. There is something there, something so enthralling. Something brought on just by those words…

_Pod očami, vezmem vás, podiel vy, a tvrdia, že vás. Nechám môj vlk sa rozhodnete pre nás, čo príde. Spustite partnera, s mesiacom na chrbte._

How those words caused such a reaction inside of Stiles, he still isn't sure. All he is sure of is that he needs to run, his instincts were screaming at him to run, just run. As fast and far away from Derek as he can. He could practically feel Derek's breath on his back now. It was close, it was almost over, but he wasn't sure he wanted it to end. He wanted it to continue, to be chased until the sun rose over the icy mountains of the North. But Stiles is no match for the mighty King in the North. 

Suddenly, the breathing behind him ceased and the padding of the wolf died out. Stiles didn't dare slow down though, but he couldn't fight the urge to glance behind him. That was a mistake. Not because of what he saw, but because of what he didn't see. There was nothing. No ominous, terrifying jet black wolf. 

No… he was no longer _behind_ Stiles. 

As the male swung his head back forward he nearly screamed, but bit the sound back. The wolf wasn't behind him any longer, but instead he was hovering over him on a large boulder, lip curled back in a menacing snarl. Stiles skidded to a halt, looking about him for an exit, but he was trapped. However, Stiles had never been one to surrender so easily… As Derek leapt from the boulder towards him, Stiles threw himself the opposite way, landing on his side. The wolf was upon him in the blink of an eye, though. His enormous paws dug into Stiles' shoulders, the black muzzle just breathes away from his face. The beast let out a victorious growl, those fangs so close to Stiles' face. His heart was beating out of his chest-- he was certain of it. 

"Nice doggy…" Stiles spoke, voice shaking slightly just before the wolf ducked it's head, latching his trap onto Stiles' throat. The dragon boy let out a cry at the pain that sizzled through his body. He was sure it was a trap then, that this was all a set up for the werewolves to kill off the last remaining Zaklinacz capable of carrying on the bloodline. Come up with this plan to make it seem as if the werewolves wanted an alliance with the kingdom of Aran Stone, only to finish off Stiles. 

He had never felt such a pain, it was white hot. It stung, tore, and melted his flesh it seemed as it slowly seeped into his blood stream. When Derek released his neck, he was sure he was dying, that his blood was oozing charcoal and he was poisoned. There was no way his body would accept this or that Derek's wolf would accept him. Cora was right, he did not belong here, ruling werewolves. With a shaking hand, he reached up to touch the wound, knowing that when he looked upon his hand the moonlight would shine down on a hand that would appear to be covered in tar instead of blood. 

As he touched the slick wound at his neck, the beast growled at him, as if defending it's territory, but Stiles touched the angry flesh regardless. As he raised his hand up to glow in the light, his eyes were met with crimson. 

Stiles' eyes welled with tears then. Bittersweet tears. He would come out of this with his life… but his life would no longer be his own. Then the strangest sensation crept down his neck and it took him a moment to realize that the wolf that still pinned him to the ground was lapping at his neck, licking the blood from his neck. 

He just laid there until the beast was satisfied and slowly backed away from Stiles, head bowed slightly, as a sign that he was no longer a threat to Stiles. He kept his eyes on the wolf as he slowly rose, not trusting him. When Stiles was on his feet, Derek raised his head and stepped forward-- making Stiles flinch momentarily. The wolf placed his large head beneath Stiles' hand, pushing his palm to rest atop his head between his ears. 

The wolf then guided Stiles out of the snow covered forest, staying at his side until they approached the castle, where Laura and the rest of the werewolves waited for them. 

 

Stiles at next to Derek on his throne. Stiles was given a smaller throne to sit atop as they watched the festivities. Scott stood to his right, serving as his own personal interpreter. He couldn't help the grimace that crawled onto his face, how was he supposed to live among such… savages. He watched as the women danced, dressed in furs that only covered their breasts and draped down their hips. They were all so exotic it seemed, they moved, giving a display that excited many of the men. They growled with excitement at the display. Two men walked a certain she wolf as she danced, he recognized her as Erica. One male moved in to ensnare an arm around her waist, pushing his groin against her buttocks, the other male, a tall, lean curly haired wolf flashed amber eyes at him, baring his teeth. The man behind Erica was dark skinned with broad shoulders, a burly chest and was _huge_. He returned with a snarl that was almost taunting as if he were daring the curly haired boy to try and take her from him. 

The other wolves around noticed the hostility among the men and turned their attention to it. They seemed to let out yips, high pitched yelps of encouragement to see a brawl. Their mouths foamed with the excitement that lit their eyes. They thirsted for a fight, watch blood seep from their kin. 

Stiles looked over towards Scott, but Scott's eyes were on the display as well. He quickly turned to look at Derek, his expression was not like the rest of the wolves, his eyes were calculating, but not full of hunger. 

When he turned his eyes back to the fight that was for sure to ensure he looked at Erica then, looked at how she was taking being treated like a piece of meat. She just smiled, continuing to dance against the male's groin. She tilted her head back and moaned, let out a loud, bone shivering moan that only fed the flame between the two males. Stiles thought then that these… these were the types of women that Derek grew up with, the types that he was used to and yet here is Stiles… He is not alluring and overly sexual like these people. He has never been taken, he still holds his virginity. He is a blushing bride, not a moaning whore. 

Derek was raised to this… he most likely takes pleasure in such activities. He will not appreciate a flowered virgin boy like himself. He needs someone who can please him in ways Stiles cannot even fathom. 

"Ona je moja!" Declared the burly dark werewolf.

The curly haired male echoed him with a howl of competition. "Nie, brat môj, som nárok na dievku pre jej teplo!" 

Stiles looked to Scott, "What are they saying?"

Scott didn't break his eyes from the sight, "They are going to fight to claim her for her heat tonight." 

"Heat? As in…" He trailed off, looking at Erica.

"All of the she wolves dancing will go into heat tonight. That's why they are dancing, a wolf will fight to take them for their heat and hopefully they will bear them pups tonight." 

"She doesn't decide who the father of her children are?"

"That's not how werewolves work. It's all about power, the strongest wolf will give her the strongest pups." Scott continued to watch and Stiles furrowed his brow, looking back at the sight. 

He couldn't help but look towards Derek, out of the corner of his eye… Would Stiles have to give Derek 'pups'? Of course he would, but could he give him the strongest pups? Slowly, he gazed upon the males as Erica was pushed out of the way, claws protruding their fingers and fangs elongating. 

The burly male let out a ferocious growl that was met by an equally as strong growl. In the blink of an eye, the males charged, slashing and biting at each other. The taller male was clearly at a disadvantage, he wasn't built as strong, but he was fast and sleek. They tip toed around each other after a moment of lashing each other. Blood dripped form the curly male's forehead, but he wore a vicious smile, while the other was all seriousness and anger. Erica watched the two males, smiling at the blood, practically getting off to the display of blood and competition over her heat. 

There was a fury of claws and teeth once more as the tall werewolf lunged, but by the end of it he was pin to the ground, surrendering with the submissive showing of his neck. He was battered and limping off, his head hung low as he pushed through the crowd that roared with excitement at seeing the tangle of tooth and claw. The champion roughly pushed Erica's head towards the crowd, making her backside lifted in the air. 

Stiles' eyes widened at what he saw. The male werewolf let out a triumphant howl before claiming his prize in front of everyone. He grabbed a handful of her hair as he relentlessly plowed into his prize, as she let out moans that made the crowd yip and howl, practically jumping up and down at the sight. 

"A mating is considered a dull event without at least three fights and claimings." Scott whispered to him. 

And their mating certainly wasn't a dull event… Stiles sat through six fights-- two of which resulted in a wolf losing their life-- and watched as six she wolves were taken before the crowd of people. He was showered with gifts, they came up to him, bringing him jewels, food, animals, books, herbs, furs, and even a small wolf child came to him.

She had wild eyes of the sea with brown hair that was matted in places, she held in her hand a single Kaffir lily in her palm, she extended it to Stiles with these words, "To kvitla na lúke pokrytej snehom na severnej strane kráľovstvo, matka povedala, že je to tvrdohlavý malý kvet, povedala, že je príliš krásna na chlad severe. Rovnako ako vy, kráľovná, drak medzi vlkmi." Scott told him what she had said: 'It bloomed in the meadow covered in snow on the north side of the kingdom, mother said it was a stubborn little flower, she said it was too beautiful for the cold of The North. Like you, Queen, a dragon among wolves.' Stiles was no Queen, mainly because he was a male, but he was the closest to it, he was the mate of their king. They didn't know what else to call him except Kráľovná. He would be these people's Kráľovná. Something in that small girl's eyes made he feel strong, as if he might be able to take on such a task. 

These people would become his people and he would rule beside their Kráľ Derek… 

 

Laura brought Stiles to Derek's chambers, where he was told to wait because the King is a busy man that he needs to attend to matters of war before finishing his mating. Stiles took it as the nice way of saying Derek didn't want him, so he was stalling. 

He could use the time to himself, though. He used the time to look around his new room. The bed was a nest of furs and pillows, it looked comfortable enough, he recognized some of the furs that rests on the bed as gifts from today, the jewels and herbs were on a table to the right, but the herbs that had been said to be fertility herbs were sprinkles about the furs, making the room smell of warm, as well as the fire that was blazing. It felt so warm, yet he did not feel welcomed. He felt as if he had stepped into someone else's room and he was intruding on something so personal. The desk as maps laid out, stone wolf heads marking where Derek's men were and lions were the Argents were. There were X's where battles had been fought. His fingers trailed over the map and stopped when they reached Aran Stone… his true home. 

There was a wolf there, when Derek had come, he left some of his men to protect the kingdom, protect Stiles' father and their people. 

On the opposite side of the map was a stone dragon… a single stone dragon. It rested in the North, surrounded by multiple stone wolves. 

Stiles sighed, stepping away from the desk and back towards the bed. He looked down at where he would lose his innocence tonight, he blinked away tears as he looked down at it, but then the door behind him opened. He turned to see Derek walking in, the eyes of a predator on him. Derek closed the door behind him, walking straight for Stiles.

Stiles stayed petrified, looking straight ahead as the Wolf King loomed over him, looking him up and down, taking deep inhale of his new mate. There were no words that came from Derek's mouth. "I've never been touched." He said, trying to keep his voice level. No verbal response from Derek, just a low growl deep in his chest. Stiles blinked back a tear as Derek's clawed hand came up to cut the cape from around his shoulders. It fell to ground, and with it Stiles' heart began to race. He shut his eyes then as Derek's hand came up to tear his silk shirt from his skin, he couldn't help the soft cry that came from his lips. Derek looked upon his face then, a clawed finger coming up to wipe the tear away from his face. 

The wolf turned Stiles around then, pushing him down onto the furs, forcefully pulling Stiles' hips up as he laid on his stomach. Stiles let the tears stream down his face then. He buried his face into the furs as Derek pulled Stiles' trousers down with a harsh yank. 

He didn't even have time to prepare himself before he felt the power and strength that was the Wolf King thrust in him. Stiles let out a pained cry, grabbing handfuls of fur in his hands, gritting his teeth. Each time Derek thrusted, a small squeal left his lips, his eyes full of tears with the humiliation of being fucked like an animal. 

Here he was, stripped of all humanity it seemed, doomed to walk the earth with a man who did not love him… Eternally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts? Questions? Ideas? Concerns? Just leave a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed chapter one of many to come!


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